Staying Positive

A couple of months ago I saw Jenny McCarthy in an interview where she talked about the fact that they don't watch the news in their home because it's just bad. Not that being informed is bad, but that the local "news" tends to be just a lot of ugliness, gossip, and certainly not "need to know" kind of stuff. I was just getting my car repaired and listened to the absolute blithering for an hour by newscasters about a local brush fire. The fact that there is a fire by the freeway and providing information about any evacuation or road closure is critical, but that's not what they were doing. They were asking anyone who lived in the area to call, tell "us" what they're seeing (even though the news helicopters were broadcasting a live picture), talk about what they, personally, had packed up if they needed to evacuate...absolutely idiotic banter with no useful information. Not once did they mention the portion of the freeway that was closed. Earlier today, I saw a news bulletin about a shooting in L.A. with SWAT team members trying to end the encounter. Of course the news is broadcasting a live image of all the SWAT guys on the roof tops, showing their location (complete with shots of the street signs), while stating that they wanted to be careful and not give the bad guys any information about where the SWAT team was positioned. OMG. What idiots.

When I got home this afternoon, I don't know what possessed me to turn on the tv. I had been stressed from the window falling in my car door while at the grocery store (thank goodness I could get it repaired in the hour that I was listening to the newscasters blither) and wanted to relax. As I flipped through the channels, I paid attention to how many really depraved, negative and just ugly programs are on TV. There were reality shows about people hiring private investigators to catch their cheating spouses, shows like Bridezillas that promote the most revolting of bad manners and language, shows like Maury where hundreds of women every year are seeking to find out who the fathers of their children are (and I do mean that plurally - it's gross). How can anyone maintain a positive attitude in life watching all of this horrible nastiness?

Today I'm making a pledge to not watch any more of that kind of television. I find that when I turn it off and turn on music or put on a light hearted program, I'm in a much better mood. There are so many ways to be entertained and informed in a positive way. It is hard to imagine that constant exposure to this depravity has no impact on the people who watch. I'm going to ask the family to join me in turning off and turning away from the negative stuff and see if it doesn't help us stay in a more positive frame of mind. It couldn't hurt!

Life is good

OK, I got over the fuss of having my husband buying my artwork at the auction. He's been coming home telling me about the comments he's received. At first, I cringe when he says that someone commented. But all the comments have been positive. Not that someone would crap on the boss's wife's artwork ;-)

Yesterday was my birthday. It was odd to be alone all day. I miss birthdays at the office when everyone made a fuss, my husband sent the most gorgeous flowers that made everyone jealous (he sent even more gorgeous flowers this year, but there's no one but me to enjoy them - I love them anyway!), and we always had silly decorations or went out to lunch together. I had a lot of time to reflect on life. A dear friend called to wish me happy birthday and ended up sharing a lot of personal struggles she's wrestling with. I wish I'd had something profound to say to make her feel better. It put my own fussing in perspective and helped me appreciate the things that go well every day.

My son was very thoughtful and wanted to get a gift that was related to my artwork. My husband knew that I'd been resisting working on more clay projects because I just have a hard time working the clay by hand (my fingers are getting older than the rest of me) and the manual pasta roller I have is a dilapidated piece of junk. He did a lot of research, unbeknownst to me, and conspired with my son to give me a pasta roller attachment for the big Kitchenaid mixer in the kitchen. It was funny - when I opened the package and saw what it was, all I could think of was the fact that my son hates pasta. He also got me a wooden rack for draping the fresh pasta as well, making me even more confused. I guess I wasn't hiding it well and my husband told me that he'd read a lot of comments by artists on the internet about how they used this attachment just for their clay and found the wooden draping gizmo to be very helpful in terms of where to put their sheets of clay. What a thoughtful bunch! He doesn't have time to blink these days, but took the time (as non-techie as he is) to do the research. I am in a much better position to get started on another art doll with a mechanical means of conditioning the clay. Yeah!

As a charming end to my birthday, Kevin announced as he was about to go to bed, "Oh yeah, I get to give you 49 whacks!" and we proceeded to have the most hysterically funny ten minutes of running around the house and whooping each other until he felt he got to 49 (with some very creative counting and after I got in a few tweaks myself).

Now all I have to do is get through Halloween with a houseful of teenagers carving pumpkins, eating pizza and watching a dreadful horror movie while I cower in another room. I wonder how many pounds of pumpkin seeds are going to be tossed during the feisty seed fight that I'm sure is going to take place. Argh. :-)

My daughter wasn't able to come home for my birthday, and told us that she lost the draw for time off for Thanksgiving and Christmas as well. It has begun. She's been on her own for a while, but we've always managed to do something like have Thanksgiving on Friday or have her drive up on Christmas morning. As long as we were together, it didn't matter when. I laughed at her last year when she asked me to take a photo of her with her cell phone while she tore into a big turkey leg. She sent it to her vegetarian boyfriend with a caption that read something along the lines of, "MEAT!!!" I know that the time will come when she will have her own family and start her own traditions that won't include coming home. Kevin is in high school now, so we know time is growing shorter with him as well. Thank heavens I have my art to keep me busy. I think I'll be taking a million classes when he's gone, although right now he says, "What do you mean leave and live on my own? You guys are awesome!" :-) What a cutie. I'll enjoy what I can get.

What was the point?

I was so proud of myself contributing two pieces of my artwork to the Boys & Girls Club auction event this past weekend. This is the favorite of all of the art dolls I've made. Showing my work in public and having my name on it was really, really hard for me. However, my husband, in his effort to make me feel good, decided he was going to bid on the work so that he could buy one or both pieces for his display in his office. I didn't even get the chance to see if there was any interest or what others may have felt was a reasonable bid for the artwork of someone they didn't know. All I know is that he made high enough bids that he "won" both pieces. I don't even know if there was a single bid on either piece.

He just didn't get it. How does one sigh on ones blog?

Inspiration requires waterproof mascara

Inspired to try something new after watching a show about artists, I wandered into our local (and usually sadly lacking) fabric & craft store. I found a few books that I thought would encourage exploring materials I don't usually work with and figured, what the heck, they would be good reading while I sat waiting (and waiting and waiting) in the car to pick up Kevin after school. I can't say I've ever been moved by an art or craft book to the point of tears, but I was - twice in two days - with the book, "Taking Flight" by Kelly Rae Roberts. She wrote in my voice, articulating my thoughts and fears and worries, but also encouraged pushing to get beyond those things that hold us back. I must admit that this is the first time I've ever read one of my art books from cover to cover. I cried in the car (thank goodness for dark sunglasses), and then got weepy again this morning as I read. The realization that I'm not alone in these very specific fears gave me a sense of inspiration that I have not experienced before. I totally related to her expression of fear of producing art that people might not like, or that they might not want to buy. I have a real fear of others thinking that I've got real nerve putting a dollar figure on my work because it's not worthy. I am nervous about attending a class or workshop, worried that I'll be the only person in the room with no ideas, I won't know anyone, will feel like a dork sitting by myself at lunch - all the silly stuff that we experience in junior high! Kelly made specific suggestions to get past all of this, including online groups and getting up the courage to attend classes and workshops. While I've asked my friend Amy, and will ask Susie M, to attend as well, I am determined to break out and go whether it's with friends there or alone. Truthfully, it would be more fun with friends (especially because the courses all teach stuff outside of all our areas of experience), but I think I'll have tons of fun anyway.

I owe Kelly Rae Roberts a big, fat thank you.

Jekyll & Hyde blogs

Life isn't so great these days. I feel like I should have a second and very secret, private blog where the ugly and grouchy "Hyde" me can just rant and fuss and complain and rant some more about everything that makes me miserable so that I can stick to the topic of art and good stuff in life on this one. The problem is finding a way to be sure that the Hyde blog gets blown up at some point so no one thinks this is all I am - a pile of ticked off grumpiness.

OK, got that out of my system.

I finished my piece for the fundraiser auction and turned it over to them. That was a really, really big step for me. I've also invested in a few new books with information about stuff I've never tried before so that I can push myself out of the comfort zone and expand the old artsy horizons. Today, I'm going to start another ATC and try some new medium. What fun! It'll be a small project that will give me a sense of satisfaction quickly. I'm also going to contact a few long-distance artsy friends to see if I can talk them into the Art & Soul gig in Portland next October. That would be a blast! Oooh, I can be positive when I try. ;-)

Reflecting on my life as an Air Force "Brat"

Independent filmmaker Donna Musil has created a documentary about military brats. I was moved to tears watching just a minute of the clip. The description of the film alone makes me cry. Those of us who can't answer the question, "So, where are you from?" get it. Boy, do we get it. Our lives growing up were inexplicably different from those of the friends we developed later in life, after our military parent(s) retired from the service. Even civilian kids that move frequently can't relate to the lives we experienced. I remember so clearly the tension and quiet panic when living in Manila when President Marcos declared martial law. We were prisoners in our homes, unable to even go out in the small yard for days. I remember when my best friend and I realized that our phone was tapped and we could hear the "observers" on the other end before placing a call. We were wicked and had some fun at their expense. Our relationship with extended family gradually waned with longer stretches of time between personal contact. Our home was run in a very dictatorial, military fashion. It was not happy. I remember coming back to the states and being terrified to speak to civilian kids. Everything about them was different - the way they spoke to each other, the slang they used, their music, their clothes...it was terrifying. I was teased because of my perceived accent, having lived in the deep south, followed by Southeast Asia, then New York. I assumed I would eventually marry someone in the service so that I could return to my life the way I knew it and was comfortable.

I've been in my current home now for 18 years. There are times that I can't believe it and want to run anywhere else. I rearrange furniture, paint rooms wildly different colours, even rearrange art between rooms to give me the sense of change. I find it odd that my children will have gone to school with the same kids for their entire academic lives. What must that feel like?

Rambling again. Sigh. In the meantime, I will enjoy running into friends at the grocery store. I will work at developing friendships, harder now that I don't have a job outside the home, but critical to my sanity! Perhaps I will find a way to include some of this renewed sense of my earlier years into a piece of art. That would be good.

I've got icing on my cake!

I've loosely quoted artist Lisa Vollrath here a couple of times because she means business when she writes and it all hits home for me. On her website, she writes about art not being a competitive sport, noting that if our art makes us happy, it has served it's purpose. If others express some pleasure or appreciation for our art, that's icing on the cake. This most recent piece of mine elicited some icing. Woohoo! I suppose it's not as important as my own appreciation for it (and I really love this one if I do say so myself), but it's still nice to have others express an appreciation for it as well. I am motivated to do more.